When the World Stops Making Sense
by Finfinfin1
Summary: An injured Legolas struggles to understand the world around him. To say Elves and fever do not mix is quite an understatement as Aragorn finds out to his peril.
1. Chapter 1

I do not understand the world today.

I often do not, especially when I am with mortals for they are strange and confusing, but today it is worse. It is a jumble of sounds and colours that create chaos within my mind, a series of connections that are disjointed and ridiculous.

Gimli tells me patiently it is because I am ill and I laugh at that.

"I am an elf!" I exclaim and I wonder to myself how he has not noticed that fact before.

"You are an elf with a penchant for putting himself in the way of filthy orcish blades," he says and I remember.

I remember the injury, for it spoiled the fragment of time we had snatched together, undone by that pocket of lingering enemy we had stumbled across. I remember the pain of the blade as it sliced across my arm, the blood which flowed through my fingers at a somewhat alarming rate. I remember Aragorn, full of concern, binding it tightly. I remember my disappointment for I had spoiled a perfect day.

"Where am I now?" I ask Gimli for I do not remember getting here and the room spins so confusingly I am not even sure if I have ever seen it before.

"This is your room lad, in Minas Tirith. I have told you this, try to keep hold of it Legolas."

I cannot remember him saying any of this before. I am sure he imagines it. If I did not feel so terrible I would be genuinely concerned for him but as it is I do not have the energy.

"How did we get here?" I ask him, and he sighs as if he has answered this question before.

"We rode here Legolas, for you were still sensible enough to carry on a conversation then."

"I can carry on a conversation now!" I cry.

"That's debatable," he mutters and I wonder what he means by that. Is it not exactly what we are doing?

"You have a fever," he explains gently, "It is confusing you."

"Elves do not get fever," I reply. We are back to this again and I think I really should take the time to educate him. He is obviously appallingly ignorant when it comes to elves, I wonder why I have never realised this before?

"Elves who have infected blade wounds do." He speaks to me as if I am a child and it upsets me.

"I KNOW that Gimli!"

"and that is you," he finishes, " Does your arm not hurt you?"

Now that he mentions it, it does. When I sweep across my mind to try and answer his question the pain floods out to meet me from amongst the jumbled cacophony of noise and sights and feelings that at the moment is my brain.

My arm throbs badly, it beats a rhythm in time with my heart.

"It does hurt," I say. "It does."

The door opens and Gimli's face lights up with relief. Does he not wish to be with me?

"Aragorn is here," he says to me with a smile, "He will stay with you while I get something to eat. Would you like something Legolas?"

"Lembas?" I am unsure if I am hungry or not at all.

" Ah...I think that might challenge them. Perhaps something a bit...more mannish?"

"I don't know anything mannish." I am confused now and bewildered, "Why would the cooks be preparing mannish foods Gimli?"

His face looks melancholy then as he pats me on the shoulder.

"You are not in Ithilien, Legolas, or the Greenwood. I will choose something for you I think you will like."

He strides over to Aragorn who stands solemnly in the doorway.

"He is worse if anything,"he whispers to him as he leaves. " He makes no sense at all."

I wonder who it is they speak of? Someone is unwell and perhaps they should not be wasting their time with me.

Aragorn looks weary as he sits beside me and places a cool hand upon my forehead. It is obvious he does not like what he discovers.

"What is wrong?" I ask and I wonder what goes on outside these doors. Surely it is something serious for he looks so very burdened.

"Your fever is worsening and it concerns me," he replies.

I do not wish to revisit the argument with him of elves and fever. He should know this, what did Elrond teach him during all those years in Imladris? I find I feel too unwell to get into that now. Everything hurts. Not just my arm but everything, every muscle I have aches to the touch. What have I done to myself to hurt this way? I feel as if I have fallen off a cliff.

"Did I fall?" I ask him. It makes sense to me. Perhaps I have hit my head and that is the reason for the strangeness of the world.

"You did not fall Legolas. You have a fever, I know things seem confusing."

That is the understatement of the year.

"Everything hurts Aragorn." Usually I am stoic, usually I would put up with this pain and bear it but it is agony and it is beginning to undo me.

"I will give you something that will improve it." He is calm as he moves to collect the glass from the other side of the room but I feel underneath that he is not calm at all. The illness of this mysterious person Gimli was concerned about must be worrying him. I seek to ease his load, he does not have to bother with me if there is something more urgent that requires his attention.

"You can go to him Aragorn if he needs you. Do not waste your time with me. I am well." I am not exactly well but he need not know that.

He looks at me in surprise.

"Who do you think needs me?"

"Who ever it is who is ill. Gimli was worried for him."

His shoulders slump as if in defeat.

"There is no one else who is ill Legolas."

And I am puzzled.

"What was Gimli speaking of then?"

"He was speaking of you. It is you who worry him."

Suddenly I am filled with a rush of terror, for Gimli had said this sickening person was not making sense and yet I am being completely sensible. It is the rest of them who are not. Have they all gone mad? Have they caught some mortal sickness that affects their brains?

What should I do?

Aragorn gently places a cup in my hands while I contemplate my predicament.

"Drink this, it will help your pain."

I want to refuse, the possibility of poison crosses my mind, but the pain is bad and the wish to ease it wins out over my anxiety. It is bitter and I gag as it slides down my throat but eventually the vicious throbbing of my arm begins to ease... to fade away and subside into nothingness. It is a blessed relief.

Aragorn brushes away the hair that has fallen across my face.

"Is it helping?" He asks.

"Yes," I murmer, and it is all I can do to say that one word, for now the pain is gone, lethargy overtakes me. I am tired, oh so tired, my eyes, like lead, will not stay open.

His hand upon me is calming. It is coolness drenching the fire that rages within me. I feel his presence, his healing, wind its way through me. It is peace amongst the chaos, a refreshing breeze caressing through the confusion of my mind.

It soothes me and finally I give in to sleep.

The Elven dreams I walk are not peaceful ones however. It is as if every trauma, every loss, every fear I have ever had in my life emerge all at once to confront me and when I awake I am drenched in sweat, my heart pounding rapidly in my chest. I feel it will explode. Something is wrong, something is very, very wrong.

"Legolas?" It is Aragorn still beside me and seeing him is a relief.

"Something is wrong!" I cry, for surely he will help me. But he only frowns and reaches out to stroke my burning forehead. I realise now that I am very hot.

"Speak Sindarin, my friend." He says, "I cannot understand your Silvan dialect."

I am confused for surely that is what I was speaking, it what I always speak with him. I try again,

"Something is wrong, Aragorn, Something..." I trail off for he looks no more the wiser. What is happening? Why can he not understand me? I search my mind for the words but they are not forthcoming, lost in a jumble of memory. Sindarin, Silvan, Westron, they all intermingle, words swirling around my brain and I can make no sense of any of them. I realise that I do not know which is which.

I look past him in panic and it is then I see the stones, the walls. I am surrounded by them and they are menacing, full of hate and malice. I have always hated the stones, I have never trusted them. I do not understand why Aragorn and Gimli would wish to shut themselves inside when they could be out under the trees. The stones move as I watch them, shifting, sliding, they crush down upon me. They aim to destroy us.

"We must get out!" I cry and I pull myself upright but the room tilts and black spots dance before my eyes. Aragorn pushes me gently back into the bed.

"You are safe Legolas." He says calmly, "Whatever bothers you is not here. Your mind plays tricks on you. It is the fever, it is only the fever."

I am consumed now with panic for he will not listen. He is wrong, it is real and the stones grow ever nearer.

"Let me go!" I cry in desperation as I struggle against him. "Please Aragorn, Let me go!"

"Ah Legolas," he replies, "I do not know what it is you say," and he will not release me.

With a dawning horror I suddenly understand and I wonder why I did not before. He is in league with them. He must be! He wishes them to capture me, to kill me, he is on the side of the stones... Do they obey his command or him, theirs? And so I fight. I ignore the burning, tearing agony that is my arm and I fight with all the strength I can muster.

It is not enough.

He is stronger than I and I am not used to this, something weakens me from within. I hurt him, I know I do, I land blows, I bite and scratch, I do anything to escape but I cannot break free. I am distraught. I cannot think of anything that could be worse than this. He is my friend, my brother, and I do not know why he has turned on me. It tears at my heart, it destroys my soul.

I cry out his name in desperation trying to get him to see me for who I am. If I can just get him to understand, I think, if I can just reach him. If I can just remind him I am Legolas.

"Aragorn, I am your friend! Please do not do this...Please!"

But he is angry, I can sense it, anger, frustration, desperation, he radiates them all and it frightens me even more than I already am.

"Be still Legolas, you will hurt yourself!" He shouts it at me. Does he think I will just lie here and let it happen?

He is calling for help then, loudly, and I wonder who will come. Where is Gimli? I want him, I need him, he can make this nightmare go away and so I call his name. With all that remains of me I call for him.

But Gimli does not come.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

I call for Gimli. If anyone can help me it will be him, but he does not appear, instead I hear footsteps above the pounding of my heart, footsteps running towards us. They must be Aragorn's guards and I know once they reach us I will be done for, I will never escape then.

I have one last chance and I put all the strength I have left into it. My elbow meets Aragorn's jaw with a sickening crack sending him stumbling to the floor where he sits dazed and motionless, it is a small window of opportunity and I take it.

I am free.

I am up on my feet but the footsteps get nearer and the walls around me twist and sway. They are attempting to confuse me I tell myself, the stones are angry their plan has failed and I must get out. I cannot go through the door, the guards come from there and so over the balcony is my only option.

Strangely I find standing on my own two feet oddly difficult but I manage it...staggering past Aragorn, on to the balcony and over the edge. My arm is not pleased with me. It is an agony, but my freedom is worth it.

"Legolas!" I can hear Aragorn swearing as he leans over the balcony looking for me. What will I do about him? I wonder. I cannot leave him as he is, so ensorcelled. There must be a way to free him from the grasp of the stones.

"Legolas!" He cries again and I flinch at the sound of his anger. I cannot do anything about him now. He will have them searching for me and so I must hide, then perhaps I can make plans to free him. I only wish my arm did not hurt quite as much as it does. It is really quite distracting.

Where to hide is my problem. Minas Tirith is a city of stone, it is everywhere, even outside I am not safe from it. I watch from the shadows, as I creep across the city, and see the Gondorians happily walking on their paths of stone completely oblivious. They have no idea it plots against them and has overtaken their King. I realise then the stones are very clever. I will have to be on my guard.

For some reason, even though the sun shines brightly, I find I am incredibly cold. It is freezing although it shouldn't be, and I cannot stop shivering. It confuses me, I am an elf, I shouldn't shiver...especially on a sunny day, but I put it to one side. I do not have time to worry about it now. I head towards the gardens. If I wish to hide from stone that is the only place to do it. I would like to retreat to the treetops for I think that would be safest, stone cannot fly, but my arm will not tolerate it so I head for the ground and make myself as invisible as I can. I hide, deep behind the bushes, huddled in a ball. They will not see me here.

It is then, when I feel safe I come undone. I am in pain, my arm aches terribly, I am cold and Aragorn has turned against me. It is too much too take and I begin to weep. I am not usually so emotional and this is hardly the place but I can not stop.

I do not know how long I am there, alone, it is very hard to keep my focus, thoughts float in and out of my mind and I cannot grasp hold of them.

"If he does not want to be found we will never find him."

I am jolted out of my reverie by the sounds of voices. It is Aragorn, and I press myself back, back under the hedge I hide behind. He must not see me.

"We will find him Estel, do not give up hope." The sound of Arwen's clear voice reaches me and even though I cannot see her it lifts my spirits.

"He needs help and yet he will not let me give it." Aragorn sounds despairing, "What state is he in now? The longer it takes to track him down the worse it will get, and he is dangerous Arwen, so strong, if he attacks one of my people..."

His words send shivers down my spine. Who does he speak of? Someone dangerous rampages through the city?

"He will not attack anyone Estel. He is frightened. He will not approach any Man."

"You cannot swear to that. You see what he did to me, even in his weakened state I could not control him. I do not know what delusions grip him."

Aragorn has been attacked? I am horrified and I cannot make sense of it. What does this have to do with the stones? I try to make the pieces fit, to understand and I am so frustrated with myself and my non functioning brain.

"He is not in his right mind, that is true," Arwen murmurs, "He would never flee to the city if he was."

It is obvious, a madman terrorises the city, has attacked my friend, the King. I am torn for he sounds at the very end of his endurance, so weary. He needs my help...and yet he seeks to harm me. Why can I not find a way out of this confusion? Why do I not know what to do?

They pause then, their footsteps halt and Arwen's voice drops low and quiet.

"Estel" she whispers, "He is here!"

I freeze, the madman is here, in the gardens. What do I do? Fool that I am, I have fled without my weapons, and my arm handicaps me greatly. I am in no position to defend them and Aragorn has been attacked, who knows what injuries he carries. Where are their guards?

I am paralysed with indecision, do I show myself and help protect them? But Aragorn wishes to hurt me...thankfully out of the bushes in front of me comes a voice to distract me from my dilemma.

"Are you there Legolas?" It is Arwen, her voice calm and soothing. She is kneeling on the ground in front of me, but I cannot see her. She speaks in the language of my childhood and in my confusion I forget myself, forget that I am hiding,

"Yes."

"Will you come out? I would help you."

"I cannot." I want to, how I want to, but Aragorn is there.

There is a pause, a weighted silence, some muttering I cannot catch.

"If you cannot come out may I come in?"

It is the perfect solution for if she is with me it will be easier to protect her and I can stay where I am...but then Aragorn will be out there alone...I decide I must take one step at a time, make sure Arwen is safe and then worry about what I am to do with Aragorn later.

"Yes." I reply and with much rustling she makes her way into my bolt hole. It is such a relief to see her.

She reaches out to me in the small space we have and cups my face in her hand. Sometimes when I am with my mortal friends it is lonely, I find myself craving an elven connection. I brush up against their souls, I see their light but they do not feel me. They cannot reciprocate, save Aragorn when he is healing, they do not reach out to soothe my fea in return. It is as if we are separated by a thin wall of glass.

When Arwen touches me now her fea entwines itself around me and I grasp it like a lifeline. She takes my battered soul and slowly, gently she knits me back into Legolas. It is this I miss, this ordinary closeness which my friends will never be able to achieve.

"Tell me why you hide here," she says.

"Aragorn tries to hurt me." It is difficult to say and I stumble on the words.

"Oh Legolas, he loves you. He would never wish to harm you."

I did not expect her to believe me. It is hard for me to believe myself.

"It is not his fault," I rush to ease her mind, to make things better for her, "they have overtaken him."

"Who has overtaken him?" she is at her most gentle with me and I am glad, my emotions are stretched to their limit.

"The stones. They are full of malevolence and hate. They despise me Arwen." It feels good to tell someone if this, to share the burden.

"The stones have overtaken Aragorn..." She murmurs almost to herself. "Why would they do that Legolas?"

I discover that I do not know. I have not asked myself that question.

"I called for Gimli," I say instead of answering, "He will know what to do, he knows all there is to know about stones, but he did not come. Perhaps they have captured him!" The idea flashes into my mind and I think it is a good one. "They have heard of his strength and kidnapped him!"

"I know where Gimli is Legolas, he has not been captured, he looks for you...shall I find him for you?"

At that moment there is nothing I would rather than to see Gimli. I yearn for his steadiness and the safety of his strength.

Arwen moves to leave and I am gripped with a sudden fear as I remember,

"Arwen, you cannot leave there is a madman in the garden!"

The look she gives me is a strange one but then a quick as a flash it is gone and her face is smooth and serene. I wonder if I imagined that look and it was never actually there.

"I will be careful, I will send someone for Gimli and be straight back Legolas. Do not worry."

But I do, I do worry as she is gone, I hear the sound of voices but they are low, too low for my ears. She takes so long to return I am pondering leaving to find her, back in the midst of my conundrum, leave my security or stay and hide?

Then as quick as she left she returns and I am glad. She shuffles next to me and draws me in to lean against her, her arm around me.

"Oh little one," she says quietly "I know nothing makes sense to you. I promise I will fix it."

It is a rare occurrence that she draws attention to the large gap between our ages and when she does it usually riles me. Not this time though, this time it is comforting and I am desperate for comfort.

She is right, nothing makes sense, none of it, not the stones, not Aragorn, not this madman they are so afraid of.

I am lost in a vortex of confusion. I cannot find the way out.

I hope she can.


	3. Chapter 3

"Legolas? ...Where is he?"

Gimli's voice floats across the garden and jolts me from my drifting thoughts.

"I think you have been seeing things Aragorn. There is no-one here."

Now I am truly awake, and alert. I throw Arwen's arm from my shoulders and curl myself tighter...smaller...I want to be invisible.

"He has Aragorn with him." I whisper. I had not anticipated this.

Beside me Arwen mutters under her breath.

"What do they think they are doing?" But then she gives me a brilliant, reassuring smile.

"That must be good news Legolas! Obviously Gimli has managed to bring him to his senses."

I am not convinced, it could not have been that easy and Gimli did not even know Aragorn was in need of help.

"Legolas." Gimli is kneeling the other side of the bushes now. "Will you not come out Lad?"

I shake my head forgetting he cannot see it but Arwen answers for me anyway.

"There is some trouble with the stones Gimli, can you help us?" she calls, "since you have already FREED Estel I see."

"Freed him? I have not... Ow! Why did you do that?"

There was no mistaking that. Someone had hurt him, Aragorn...or the madman?

If I could only stop shivering, if I could only make myself think clearly then I could work out how to help him. Instead all I can do is hide. I am ashamed of that. It is not what I do and yet it seems to be my only option. I push back, deeper, further under the hedge. It makes me wince as the branches scratch tracks across my back.

"Yes, yes," Gimli calls again, "I have Aragorn completely under control Legolas, nothing to worry about there. Come out and talk to me."

I don't believe him.

"Come on now, you are not well. Let us help you...There will be no more trouble from those stones."

"What does he mean I am not well?" I ask Arwen, "What does he mean?"

"You have a fever Legolas." She says gently, "I know you cannot feel well. I can feel you burning."

"My arm hurts." I say, "That is all," and there is the freezing cold of course, and the aching everywhere else, and the numbness of my brain but the arm is all she needs to know of.

Arwen looks at me thoughtfully then,

"Are you thirsty Legolas?," she asks and I wonder why she thinks of that now, but then when my mind begins to consider it I discover I am. I am very, very, thirsty, and so I nod.

"Gimli, Legolas is thirsty, can you bring us some water?" she calls out. "Aragorn will know where to get it,"

"I think I am capable of fetching a glass of water."

I recognise that Gimli is beginning to get aggravated and an aggravated Gimli is not a pleasant sight but Arwen simply rolls her eyes and sighs. She is frustrated, with Gimli or myself I cannot tell.

"It doesn't matter." I say, trying make her happy.

"Of course it matters." She takes my shivering hand in her own and frowns, something about it upsets her.

"I am sorry, it is just so cold here," I try to apologise, and I wonder why it is she seems completely unaffected it.

"You must come out of here and let us help you Legolas," she says earnestly. "It is the fever which makes you cold and the fever which makes things seem so strange."

But I laugh and I wonder where her commonsense has gone.

"Fevers make you hot Arwen, I know that much...and I am cold!"

She opens her mouth to reply but at that moment Gimli's hand appears through the greenery in front of me complete with a flask full of water.

"Water for you Legolas."

I snatch it from him, now that I see it I cannot resist, my mouth is dry and I drink it hurriedly like a man lost in the desert. It is cool, refreshing, soothing and oh so good.

Too late though I notice the sweet cloying aftertaste of a sedative, far too late for I have swallowed much but in desperation I spit out what is left.

"Arwen," I cry, "It was a trap! They have trapped me, Gimli and Aragorn...the stones have won. You should run...run away!"

But she does not run, she clasps both my hands in hers.

"It is alright Legolas, it will be alright, we only wish to help you." and I realise she has trapped me as well, she is one of them.

"No!" I push myself back, back, back, away from her as far as I can get.

"No, not you too!" I am panicked and terrified. What do I do? There is no way out, and the darkness encroaches on my awareness, my vision swirls and blurs.

"Stay away, stay away!" I push against Arwen as she tries to comfort me, but my limbs will not work the way I want them and my words are slurred.

The darkness wins out. There is nothing.

.…

It is a bright summers day. The sun casts a golden glow across my room, the doors to the balcony are thrown open letting a gentle breeze in which whispers sweet dreams to me as it ruffles my hair. I wonder how long I have slept, it has not been very peaceful I know that much, for my dreams have been strange ones. It must have been the effects of the painkiller Aragorn gave me as he repaired the wound to my arm. Still he has done a good job. My arm aches but a little and I feel well. I move my arm to test it...slightly stiff and sore, not too bad.

I sit up and swing my legs over the side of the bed. It must be at least mid morning and I have slept long enough.

"What are you doing Legolas!"

It is Gimli, I hadn't seen him there in the corner and I swing around with a grin,

"Getting up. I fancy some breakfast."

"You stay there." He says, holding his hands out warily. "I will send for food, there is no reason for you to be out of bed."

"I feel quite well Gimli." He is worrying far too much as usual.

"Stay where you are..." He moves cautiously around the room, never taking his eyes off me. "Nothing will harm you Legolas, just stay where you are. I have the stones under control."

"What?" He seems almost afraid of me...and what did he mean by that last sentance?

"What do you mean?"

"I am the Master of the Stones remember Legolas. They will not hurt you, I will not allow it. I have spoken severely to them for their previous behaviour."

I gape at him. What on earth is wrong?

"Of course they will not hurt me. They are inanimate objects Gimli. Are you quite alright?"

I wonder if he has taken an injury yesterday and is hiding it. I will have to let Aragorn know, this is very concerning.

"Where is Aragorn?" I ask gently so as not to alarm him.

"All is under control with him also. Do not worry, he will not hurt you, I have freed him from the stones as you asked."

"Of course he will not hurt me!" Has Gimli gone completely mad?

"What do you mean...freed him from the stones? Was there a building collapse? A rock fall?"

The door opens before I can ask any more and Aragorn himself stands there. At the sight of me he pales.

"Gimli! Shut the windows!" He gasps as he barricades the door behind him with his body.

"The room will be hot and stuffy if you do that Aragorn. Leave it, I like the breeze." He is obviously worried about my health but there is no need. I will put his mind at rest. But Gimli does as he says and shuts the balcony doors firmly. I sigh at the loss of the wind.

Aragorn inches slowly towards me,

"Go and get Arwen," he hisses to Gimli, "Go and get her now!"

He is behaving almost as oddly as Gimli.

I look at him properly then and realise he is a total mess. His face covered with vivid bruises, his arms scratched...and is that a bite mark?

"What has happened to you?!" I cry in alarm and I remember what Gimli said about freeing him from the stones. Has there really been a cave in somewhere? Why didn't they wake me?

"It is nothing Legolas." He says very, gently, very slowly, "Do not worry."

"Do not worry?...when you look like that! And what is wrong with Gimli. He is behaving very oddly. I am concerned he has received an injury of some kind during the that skirmish yesterday. Have you looked at him?"

"Yesterday?" He asks, "Which skirmish yesterday do you speak of?"

"Was there more than one? I only remember one."

He is confusing me now. This rockfall seems to have done more than just the obvious external damage for his words are not making sense.

"With the orcs...that spoiled our day...hurt my arm."

"That was three days ago Legolas."

"No!" I do not believe him, surely I have not slept for three days.

"I have been asleep all that time?"

"Not exactly..." He reaches out gingerly with his hand to touch my forehead.

"Your fever has broken!" His smile is wide at that.

"I had a fever?"

"And what a fever," he laughs with relief, "I have spent most of the last days chasing you around the city while you tried to escape us. Do you remember none of it? ...Perhaps that is best."

I concentrate on my memories...no I don't remember that...or do I, strange fragments of memory return, of the dreams I have had, running, hiding, evil stones and...

"That was a dream," I exclaim, "Tell me it was not real!"

I search Aragorn's face for a sign he is only teasing and see none. Instead I see again all his injuries...the purple bruise under his jaw, the scratches. I am filled with horror.

"I did this!" and I trace my fingers gently across his face. How could I?

"Like I said...it is nothing." He grasps my hand, "You were not yourself. You were frightened. Fever obviously affects wood elves rather...aggressively. The next time you are ill I think Arwen will be looking after you. She can at least talk to you."

"I am sorry!" I gasp, how can I ever make this up to him?

The door bursts open then and Gimli and Arwen tumble through, each looking as frantic as the other they come to a dead stop in front of me.

"Legolas has no fever!" Aragorn smiles happily, "You will be pleased to know he no longer thinks me leader of an evil stone army."

I am mortified as it all comes flooding back, my belief the stones would attack me, hiding in the garden with Arwen under a hedge...

I sink to the bed, my head in my hands, I do not think I have ever been so embarrassed in my life.

"This is terrible," I moan to myself and Arwen sits down beside me,

"When you think of it, it is actually quite amusing." She smiles at me, but I do not feel amused, I wish the ground would open up and swallow me.

I look past her to the walls behind, walls made of stone. They are harmless now. Solid rock that threatens me not at all. What was I thinking?

The voice sounds then in my head, cold and menacing it whispers to me.

"Next time, Legolas Thranduilion. Next time."

I look up startled but my friends all smile down on me.

They have heard nothing. How did they not hear that?

I stare at the walls.

They are only stone I tell myself. It was all a fever dream. They cannot move, cannot think, definitely cannot talk.

Or can they?


End file.
